Sorry
by xoCookieDoughxo
Summary: Hungover and haunting memories. This is all Shane Gray has for comfort after Mitchie Torres left him.


_I was just listening to Akon's Sorry and found it just SO sad. I have this journal and I actaully write oneshots in it. So I decided to take one and edit it a bit, turning it into this. Hope you like this!_

_Oh, and the disclaimer: Nope, I do not own the song Sorry by Akon, or Akon, or Shane Gray and Mitchie Torres. I just own the story plot. XD!_

_Love, xoCookieDoughxo_

_Also, please check out my Youtube, xoCookieDoughxo. I have actual series there. Thank you!!!_

_**Sorry-A Shane Oneshot**_

_As life goes on I'm starting to learn more and more about responsibility  
I realize everything I do is affecting the people around me  
So I want to take this time out and apologize for things I have done  
And things that have not occurred yet  
And the things they don't want to take responsibility for_

Shane Gray held on to his head as he stumbled down into the large recliner. He had a headache worse than a migrane-if that was even possible. It was as if his brain has just exploded into his skull, tearing apart shard by shard of his memories. He groaned as he felt another "explosion" in his head. This time, however, it didn't hurt his head, it hurt his heart.

It brought back another memory, vivid as ever. Shane saw every corner of the living room he was in-The leather couches, the 60 inch flat-screen TV, the shining Les Gibsons hanging on the walls, the beautiful glass creations that belonged to Mitchie, on top of the cherry wood mantle.

A tall, hulking shadow stood in front of the doorway of the room, staggering and finally dropping down on to the couch. Shane wrinkled his nose at the strong scent of alcohol wafting from the figure's body.

Suddenly, a slender figure appeared behind the fallen body of the one on the couch. She brushed back her reddish-brown locks and pulled out a damp towel. She put it on the other person's forehead. The person waved her off, but she continued to put the damp towel over his head.

Suddenly, the man lunged at the woman-Whom Shane noticed was Mitchie. "Mitchie…" He whispered painfully. The man leaped from the couch and slapped her cheek, while Shane ran over to Mitchie's side, trying to protect her, but the man's arm slid through him, reaching Mitchie who let out a cry.

Shane looked furiously at the man, who was now retreating upstairs. He ran up to him, trying to confront the mysterious man. He stopped mid-step when he saw the facial features closely. Straight, black hair, perfectly combed, brown eyes, and hungover.

It was him. Him, Shane Gray.

No. Never. He would never hurt Mitchie, ever.

But Shane Gray knew, that in his heart, it was all his fault. All his fault.

_I'm sorry for the times I left you home  
I was on the road and you were alone  
I'm sorry for the times that I had to go  
I'm sorry for the fact that I did not know  
That you were sitting home just wishing we  
Could go back to when it was just you and me  
I'm sorry for the times I would neglect  
I'm sorry for the times I disrespect_

Shane Gray smiled at the camera and flashed his million-dollar smile. The reporter, a tall, blonde lady, suddenly asked him a question. "Shane, how are you and Mitchie doing lately?"

Shane waved a hand at the lady. "Great." Then he answered another question.

Mitchie Torres, or Mitchie Gray, was watching Hot Tunes TV, listening to news about her new husband. Pathetic, wasn't it? She was actually watching a TV show to get news about her husband.

But lately, Mitchie found this the safest way to track what he was doing. When Shane came home, he never said anything about his "rockstar" life. He just slept and slept and ate and ate. Oh, and he drank and drank too, not water, but wine and beer and all that crap.

They didn't do anything anymore-no more canoe rides, or stuff like that. At first he did, bringing her to Camp Rock, or maybe a fancy French restaurant, or watching _The Sound Of Music_ with her.

It wore off fast.

When Mitchie heard him say "Great" and then shrug the question off, she burst into tears, grabbing for a pillow. At the sound of footsteps, she pushed a strand of her hair behind her ears and rubbed her eyes dry, changing to watching the news.

Keenan Joseph Gray, their son of eight years, was actually very intelligent for an eight year old. He padded on the wood flooring, listening to his mother's sobs as he walked.

He was angry at his father, for leaving his mother in this state. He was angry is father did nothing to fix it. He was angry that his mother had to work so hard for their family just to put a meal on their table, even when his father is a very rich rockstar. __

I'm sorry for the wrong things that I've done  
I'm sorry I'm not always there for my son  
I'm sorry for the fact that I am not aware  
That you can't sleep at night when I am not there  
Because I am in the streets like everyday  
Sorry for the things that I did not say  
Like how you are the best thing in my world  
And how I am so proud to call you my girl

Mitchie Torres gave a large grin at her son up on the stage. Keenan was in the Spelling Bee at his school, and he was very excited-his father was coming to see him. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and it was 8-year-old Keenan's turn.

"Father" The Judge said.

"Father" Keenan repeated. He looked around the stage and then at the audience. He was looking for a tall, black haired rockstar.

"Father." Keenan said again. He scanned the crowd once more and rubbed his eyes sadly. A tear fell from his eyes and the audience gasped. "It's what I don't have."

The boy then ran down the stage, and Mitchie Torres cried again. She cried because Shane was never there. Ever.

And Shane Gray always remembered this because Mitchie Torres recorded it. __

You can put the blame on me 

_Said you can put the blame on me  
You can put the blame on me_


End file.
